How to Save a Dream
by shadowbladeandcookies
Summary: This story is about a girl named Deirdre who read some books on djinni and the like and tries to summon Bartimaeus.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: This peice of wonderful writing is from Shadowblade, not cookie, because she doesn't care about Bartimaeus, which I find sort of mean. Anyways, this is my first story, and I'll be adding chapters whenever I get the chance. Chances will come very rarely for me because I am going of vacation in two weeks(Dec 12 to 19) and because my science/math teacher is being a bum and giving our class projects so close to the winter break. Cookie agrees very much with the statement about my math/science teacher. Well, read, review and let me know about any errors I made!**

A BARTIMAEUS STORY

CHAPTER 1

I had no clue what I was doing. I read the texts over and over, I drew the pentacle exactly like the picture, and I memorized ways to get the djinni to do what I needed. But I was still nervous. If I screwed this up, I'd be dead, considering I was summoning a 5015+ year old djinni named Bartimaeus of Uruk. I stood in the centre of the pentacle, then realizing I was wasting time, spoke the words of summoning.  
I felt the room go hot, then cold, then back to normal, then, I saw a young, handsome boy, about my age, with curly dark hair, yellow eyes, and huge, white, feathered butterfly wings, in the opposite pentacle.  
The boy yawned. "Can you make this quick? I was in the middle of a century long nap," he said.  
Well now I knew that I summoned the right spirit.

"Uh," I started, "I need you to-" he cut me off.

"I need you to do this, I need you to do that. That's all you magicians ever say. No 'Oh, would you be a dear and go-' or 'please, dear spirit, would you-'. You always had your needs." He crossed his arms.

I ran a hand through my dark hair. "Okay fine," I said. I made my voice high pitched. "Dear Bartimaeus, would you be so kind as to as to slaughter your friend Nimshik?"

He blinked. "Not now, not EVER, has Nimshik been my friend. But yes, I'll slaughter him. And if you don't mind me asking, why?"

I really didn't want to tell him. It was so embarrassing. But if I wanted this job done, I had no choice. "Well, Nimshik, was, well, how do I say this? Uh, he, oh dear gods, he tried to um, kiss, me." That was the most difficult thing I have ever had to say. Ever.

Bartimaeus looked as if he was going to throw up, and I felt the same.

"What is WRONG with that djinni? Hitting on a HUMAN? That's low, even for him. I haven't even stooped that low. Just how desperate can one get?" he shook his head, letting a curtain of curls hide his face.

Bartimaeus continued on like this for some time, while I started my plan. He turned around in his pentacle and faced my wall of posters, while I inched my way to the back of my pentacle, where I slipped my left foot outside.

He was asking pointless questions, then stopped suddenly, then continued. He'd noticed that I wasn't fully in my pentacle. All the bonds holding him had broken. My life was in danger.

But the thing is, even though I don't know him, I trust him. So, hopefully, I won't be his next meal.

He turned around slowly, then, faster than I could blink, he was beside me, in my pentacle. I gasped.

He smelled like lime, rosewood and brimstone. Just like the books said he would. He was taller than me by a few inches. I dipped my head down, avoiding his eyes.

He put a finger under my chin, and made me look at him.

His eyes had gone from yellow, to an inky black, like the night sky, and the more I looked, the more I saw. I saw layers upon layers of darkness. And it was beautiful. His face was two inches from mine. Close enough to bite my head off.

"You did that on purpose didn't you?" he asked, his voice was as inky as his eyes.

I nodded as best as I could.

"Why?" he asked, his voice the same.

I didn't want to tell him what I thought, that I trusted him, that I trusted any spirit anywhere. I wasn't a magician, I was just a person who'd read a book or two about spirits and magicians and gotten over curious.

But I had to answer. I said, "Well I wanted to see, if, you, were, different, from other spirits." My voice came out soft and high pitched, which was not what I needed.

Flecks of silver appeared in his eyes, making them more beautiful than before. They looked like a starry night. He asked, "And what have you learned from this experience?"

I wanted to say that you have pretty eyes or that he smelled good but instead I said, "That other djinn won't be as generous as you?" I felt blood rush to my cheeks as I said that.

He smiled, and that made more blood rush to my face. "How about you tell me where that little incident with Nimshik happened? I'll fix it, then we can continue this conversation."

He took my hand and told me to lead the way.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I ended up taking Bartimaeus to the park, where I had taken Nimshik. I was having a bit of a bully problem so I thought Nimshik would be able to help. He got the bully to leave me alone, but he also left me with a huge feeling of awkwardness. At least that's what I told Bartimaeus. He didn't know I was lying to see if djinni were really as selfish as the books said.

I stood next to the swings while Bartimaeus crossed his arms. "So," he began, "what exactly happened?"

I recounted the whole experience, from the summoning, to the fight with my bully, to the part where IT happened.

By the time I was finished, Bartimaeus looked as if he were about to throw up. Which is how I felt the whole time I was telling my story. I really hated lying.

Bartimaeus scratched his head, then stared at me. His gaze was so intense that I felt as if I were going to blow up. "What?" I said.

"I'm trying to… figure out why… Nimshik, would hit on you," he replied, "I mean, not to be rude or anything, but I've seen humans so pretty that it made me melt to look at them." He got this sort of glazed look in his eyes. "But you? Eh. Long dark hair, tan, blue-black eyes. Typical."

I wanted to do two things: first, slap him so hard that his head flew off. Two, I wanted run home and cry. His words stung like a cut from a knife. I was about to let out a string of curse words, but Bartimaeus wasn't done yet.

"One question though: when he tried to, you know, did it look like he was really going to, um, _you know_, or did it look like he was about to take a chunk of you face off?"

What kind of a question is that? My eyes were burning so I looked down when I answered. "How am I supposed to know? My eyes were closed. But I heard heavy breathing if that helps."

I heard him sigh. "Whew. I knew Nimshik was normal. He wasn't trying to kiss you, he was trying to kill you. Heh, heh. He was about to take a large portion of your face off, then devour you in one swallow. Good old Nimshik." He went from that winged boy to the form I recognized as Ptolemy. He asked, "Are we done here? Or are there any other things you want to tell me?"

I couldn't look at him. I was too embarrassed. He called me ugly. Okay, maybe he didn't say it, but he implied it.

It might not seem like a big deal, but my entire life I was told that I'm not pretty enough, or smart enough or funny enough. I wish I could prove everyone wrong.

That's been my dream ever since fifth grade when Serena McAllister told me that I was a slut. In fifth grade! Ever since then, I've been insulted and abused and I kept telling myself that one day I'd rise above everyone and prove them wrong. I had no clue that today, my dream was going to come true.

If another person at school told me that I wasn't pretty, I'd say 'Shut up.' But what am I supposed to do about a djinni?

I looked at Bartimaeus. He gave me a sort of confused look that said, 'Whoa, was it something I said?'

I was angry. In my life I've been sad, alone, desperate, disappointed, depressed, anxious and rarely happy. But I can't recall ever yelling or being mad at someone.

"You think you're so cool, don't you?" I began. "You feel like just because you get to go to a happy place at the end of a long time, or maybe a short time. You have something to look forward to.

"You have no idea what I have to go through everyday of my life! I'm tormented, abused and…and… at times, beaten. Why? Because I'm either too ugly, to stupid or too boring." I paused. "And just so you know, I lied about Nimshik. I never summoned him. I just wanted to see if djinni were as… resilient as the books described."

Bartimaeus looked bored. BORED! "Honestly, I don't care about you and your little human issues. So if were done here-"

I shut my eyes before I spoke. "You just don't get it do you? I've got it worse than you! You may have been trapped in a little glass ball for an hour and broken down to the point where your essence is trailing behind you, but I… I have no happy place I can go to; where I know I won't get hurt. Unlike you, I have nothing."

I opened my eyes and Bartimaeus gave me this look. A look that had shock, horror and… astonishment written all over it.

"Y-your eyes…" he stammered.

I pulled an iPod I'd found in a variety store out of my pocket, and looked at my reflection. I saw my long dark hair, oval shaped face, deep tanned skin… but my eyes. They should have been black. But instead, they looked like they were made of fire. I mean it. There was no iris, pupil or whites. Just yellow-orange flames that licked my eyelashes, making them flame-tipped. I blinked a few times, but the fire remained.

"Are you sure you haven't been in contact with anything, um, abnormal over the past little while?" Bartimaeus asked.

I shook my head. In the iPod I noticed my hair changing. It shortened and curled into ringlets, with flame colored streaks here and there. My bangs disappeared and a golden wreath encircled my head.

I tried to put my iPod in my pocket, but my pocket wasn't there anymore. I was wearing a white dress, with a golden belt and golden shoulder clasps. The dress went down to my feet, which now had sandals on them.

Then the weirdest thing happened. My back started to hurt, a lot. Then I got all warm; and then everything stopped. I looked at my sandaled feet and yelped. I was a foot off of the ground. From my back had sprouted two huge, golden tipped, swan wings.

Bartimaeus asked, "Who _are_ you?"

I looked at him for some time. "I-"


End file.
